


Happiness

by Jane1998



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane1998/pseuds/Jane1998
Summary: How different would Matt and Sylvie’s journey to each other have been if he had asked her out on 7x22?
Relationships: Sylvie Brett & Matthew Casey, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 26
Kudos: 120





	1. 7x22A or Awkward Conversations and CFD Memos

**Author's Note:**

> Well, much like the majority of us I was highly disappointed (yet not surprised) by the cliché type angst they decided to throw at Brettsey on Season 9, but it got me thinking: how different would things have been if Matt hadn’t chickened out of asking Sylvie to be his plus one on that double date with Boden and Donna at the end of season 7, and if the writers for once got creative with angst and got a little less obsessed with overcomplicating things? (by the way, quick side note, what the heck happened to that date anyway? He went alone or something? Follow up, writers! Also, I don't read that many fanfics so if someone out there has already explored this idea don't kill me lol) Now, I will obviously not attempt at re-writing every single episode from Season 7’s finale to Season 9 in detail, but I’ve already thought of quite a few changes I’d make to certain episodes, all of which are somehow connected to Brettsey (kinda like the format of good/right/real, by angellwings. Do not expect me to live up to that though, I’m really just talking about format LOL if you haven't read that one yet... why?!). The title of each chapter will indicate what episode (or episodes) it covers, starting at 7x22 obviously. There might be some original lines in a different order/moment, so don’t be confused. Also, if I don't go into detail about a scene or conversation that happened originally, then that means I didn't change anything about it. I can't promise how often I'll update this since I already have another multi-chap going on and, you know, life, so I actually shouldn't have started this one now (oh, well) but I'll do my best. And before this note gets too long – if it hasn’t already – this fic is named after the song that also helped inspire it: “Happiness”, by Taylor Swift (duh). So, here goes nothing. Enjoy!

Talk about an interesting shift. The usually highly disputed first coffee batch was practically left alone after a heroic young boy crash-drove his family car into the firehouse so that his mom could get the help she needed and deliver his baby sister. The stunt impressed the heck out of everyone that witnessed it from the driveway where they had been running drills, but Casey was especially carried away. He was biased, sure, given his old soft spot for kids and babies, but it definitively wasn’t the type of thing you see every day. Brett and Foster had to deliver the baby right then and there, as the head was already popping out, and Matt decided to treat the boy – Cory was his name – with a firetruck ride to the hospital. Poor kid was scared out of his mind, but thankfully had no injuries other than a small cut to his forehead. And so, the two rigs left, sirens and lights on, and it’s safe to say everyone was wide awake after that.

At Lakeshore, Matt kept Cory company until his dad arrived, about the same time Brett and Foster came back out and the three of them were relieved to see the dad wasn’t a jerk and had nothing but pride and gratitude for his son. Shortly after that, the nurse asked him if he’d like to meet his baby daughter, at which he said yes promptly. Casey’s heart started to wonder what both of those things would feel like as he watched Mr. Crowell walk in with an arm around Cory, but his self-preservative mind knew better and cut it short. He started to walk away from the paramedics pointing out the somewhat unrealistic pressing need of taking 81 back to the firehouse before there was any more excitement, which was a reasonable, doubled-meaning thing to say.

“You were really good with that boy” Sylvie said, her eyes not leaving room for any doubt as to whether or not she meant it, and the whole thing just brought his heart rate up a few beats. “Not helping, not helping!” his mind yelled at him, and he brushed the complement off saying he was just doing his job, and then really left.

But as it turns out, this shift seemed to be wired for some kind of excitement or other. As soon as his feet landed on the apparatus floor, Herrmann let him know Chief was looking for him. He thought maybe it had something to do with the surprise rescue he had just returned from, so he decided to check in with Boden before writing his report, going straight to his office. He was quite flattered (and a little surprised) when he found out the talk was actually an invitation to join Chief and his wife on a free, fancy dinner this Friday night – and that he needed to find a date.

And that is how he finds himself here, starring at Ambo 61’s paramedics through the windows of 51’s tower. More specifically, he’s looking at the radiant smile Sylvie has as she jokes around with Emily about something, and at the same time, he mentally calculates how terrible of an idea it would be to ask her out.

It might just be the goosebumps he gets from said smile talking, but all of a sudden, he feels like it’s a great idea. It’s not as compromising as it would be if, say, he was asking her out on a date just the two of them; he doesn’t have to worry about Donna and Boden not liking his chosen escort and Sylvie gets in on the fun of dining at the Palm for free. Everybody wins, right? This is usually when his mind would jump into action and shut his heart down, setting him straight, but if it has any argument against this logic, it might be too… distracted right now to remember.

Normally, he’d run the idea by Severide, get his perspective on things, but his best friend really has been throwing himself into the arsonist hunt-down, and Casey knows better than to bother him with anything else right now. In fact, as he heads back to his quarters, Engine and Squad get a call, which means Kelly runs past him in the bunkroom, and he realizes this is actually the first time this shifts he’s seen him. But that’s fine. He’s got a report to write anyways, and Friday is still two days away, there’s no need to rush. Let the idea sink in, see if it really is as harmless as it sounds, and then make a move. Lord help him if he really ever gets to that part.

Reports for calls as simple as the accident this morning don’t usually take long, but Casey re-writes something every three or four words, and proofreads the whole thing twice. Once he’s finally satisfied, it’s been a few minutes, but he needs to buy more time. He drops the report on chief’s desk, and hangs around his office a bit, making small talk about the weather. Boden briefly looks up from his own paperwork with a pointed brow, a “huh?!” and a confused look that questions much more what Matt’s still doing there rather than what he just said, so the captain takes it as his cue to go procrastinate somewhere else.

He heads to the bathroom first, over washing his hands after using it and then heads to the common room to get a cup of coffee and pace around a bit while figuring out what he’s going to say and mentally rehearse it like he was a TV show actor or something. He’s doing this. He hasn’t found one good reason not to, and it’s been – he looks at his watch – thirty minutes. He takes a second look at it, just to make sure. Half an hour? Feels like centuries since the thought first crossed his mind. He sinks into the couch, the last bit of coffee still in hand, and really starts to outline the invitation.

Ok, so, it can’t be too romantic, but it can’t be a CFD memo either. Probably best to just cut to the chase and add a “I’d really like you to come with me” at the end of it. Yeah. That sounds good. And safe. Perfect. He gives himself a nod and finishes his coffee just as he glances Severide for the second time today, bursting into the firehouse while talking to Hubble on the phone, OFI mode still fully on, and then disappearing into the bunkroom with Stella.

Well, there’s no point in postponing this any further so he walks over to the sink, washes his cup, and heads out to the app floor. There’s quite a crowd around 61 at the moment, so he pretends to be organizing something inside Truck 81 while Herrmann and Ritter are talking something over with the paramedics. He’s so nervous he doesn’t register what they are talking until Foster’s tone of voice changes to a very serious and authoritative one, which draws his attention back to them.

\- Excuse me – she gives Ritter her very best death glare – are you body shamming Brett?

He has absolutely no idea how the hell they got to that point of the conversation, but judging by Sylvie’s amused expression, Foster is taking whatever happened a bit more serious than she should. Or maybe she’s just messing around with Ritter, who shrinks immediately and gets very, very defensive.

\- No, no no-no, I wasn’t...

\- Kinda sounds like you are. – Emily looks so serious that for a second he really thinks she’s mad at him, but as soon as she turns towards Brett, both of them chuckle together.

Poor Ritter looks back at Herrmann for some kind of help – Casey assumes - and the lieutenant places a comforting hand on the candidate’s back and says:

\- Alright, advanced lesson number one: don’t attack the lamb while the shepherds’ still around.

Foster circles Sylvie’s back and points two fingers at the men, signaling she’ll keep an eye on them and look out for her partner. Now he’s sure she was messing with Ritter as she has the same amused expression Sylvie had before, and they’re both smiling.

He’s not even going to bother trying to understand what the hell just happened.

\- Herrmann is going to knock the sweetness right out of him, isn’t he? – Foster asks, still smiling as she watches the two men head inside.

\- I don’t know – Sylvie answers, pondering her partner’s question – given what we just saw I don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about.

Once again, they both chuckle.

\- Good point – Foster agrees – anyway, I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Looks like that milkshake we had on the way back from Lakeshore is starting to really kick in – she explains as she starts walking away.

\- That is so much more information than I needed – Sylvie points out, frowning her forehead.

\- Be back in five – Emily yells, almost reaching the doors that lead to the common room.

\- Take your time! – Sylvie yells back teasingly, and hops into the Ambo.

Ok, Casey, that’s your cue. There’s literally no one else here.

He shuts Truck 81’s door and starts to walk over to 61, with his hands on his pockets. No, too serious. He’s not captain Casey right now, he’s Matt. Hands down his sides.

\- Brett? – he calls, immediately regretting not using her first name.

\- Yeah? – she jumps out of the ambo, holding her elbows as she looks at him expectantly.

\- So, let me ask you something - he feels like he should be doing something with his hands though. Cross arms in front of him, yeah, that seems … nope, too serious. Again. His arms do a ridiculous back flip movement that almost resembles a badly-perfomed dance move as they try to catch up with his brain until they finally land on his hips. – how do you feel about fancy restaurants?

Well, that’s off to a _really_ great start. It’s not nearly close to the well-rehearsed and straight forward speech he had planned. He blames the woman in front of him. One adorably beamy look from her and bang! He is a fifteen-year-old with a crush again.

\- Ah… what kind of fancy restaurants? – she asks, curious and a bit confused.

\- The Palm – he shoots back.

\- Oh, _that_ fancy – she smiles – well, I’ve never been, but heard really great things about it. Apart from the price, of course.

\- Well, what if it were for free. Would you be interested? – this just sounds more and more like that CFD memo he was trying to avoid.

\- I-I guess, but why are you…

\- There was some kind of auction at Terrance’s school – he interrupts her, getting ahead of her question - and Boden and Donna, well, actually Donna, won a dinner for four this Friday night at The Palm, so obviously they are going, but they need two other people to attend with them, since it’s for four, so they, I mean, chief- _Boden_ -invited me. – Oh, God. Kill him. Kill him now – So, if you don’t have any big plans this Friday… I’d really like you to come with me. _Us_.

That car accident from this morning was far less chaotic than this little word vomit of his, but here we are. Also, how many times can you use the word “so” before it loses its meaning completely?

Sylvie’s stare deepens, like she’s trying to process everything he just said - which she really is.

\- S-sure, yeah – she smiles like an idiot, feeling butterflies – I’d love to go out with you – it takes her a few seconds to hear her own sentence and quickly correct it, shutting her eyes briefly and chuckling – _and_ chief Boden and Donna.

\- Great! I’ll text you the details. – Casey says, pointing at her quickly as he starts to walk back towards the inside of the house.

\- Ok! – she answers, nodding her head way more emphatically than necessary, smiling like an idiot still.

And now she’s the one who is not even going to bother trying to understand what the hell just happened. And it doesn’t matter really, because the gist of it is this: she’s got a date with Matt Casey! ( _and_ chief Boden and Donna damn it!)

***

Their first night off shift is off to the very best start: after an entire day of extra-hours on arsonist-hunting duty, Stella and Severide finally caught Carol. Truck 81’s only female member is welcomed into Molly’s with Herrmann’s best “there she is!” scream and lots of cheering from everyone. She plays it off pretty cool, but she doesn’t mind a little praise, especially when the mayor’s in the house.

Sylvie smiles and cheers her friend along with everyone else as Joe, Foster and herself enter Molly’s just behind Stella, and the three of them proceed to one of the tables in the mid-section of the bar.

\- I’m in the mood for whisky neat tonight. – Foster states, looking at the bottles behind Herrmann and Otis.

\- I’m having a good old beer. Roomie? – Joe asks, looking at Sylvie.

\- I’m going to sit on it for a while, but you guys go ahead.

\- Oh, chaplain! Hey! We are going to the bar; can we grab you something? – Foster’s voice draws their attention to the person she is speaking to, and it is only then that Sylvie notices Kyle standing behind her.

\- IPA – he responds shily.

\- Got it! – Joe says, walking away from them, followed by Foster.

Kyle takes a seat by Sylvie’s side, and she instantly feels her heart racing when he says he is there to see her. But this racing and rush she feels today is quite different from when she saw him at Med. That day was awkward but kinda nice at the same time. Tonight, it’s just awkward… and honestly, a little scary. There was a time in which she hoped Kyle would give them another chance, but right now she’s internally praying this isn’t what he’s about to say. Not because she doesn’t know what she’d do, but because she _does_ , and she really doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint him.

The fact that she doesn’t want to get back together with him doesn’t mean she wants him to leave Chicago, so the pinch of selfish sadness she feels when he tells her he is moving to Indianapolis – Anderson actually, of all places - is inevitable. She’s beyond happy that he’s getting recognition for his job and how great he is at it, but she will miss him.

She tries to tell him that in a playful way, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and saying, with a smile:

\- The universe has really conspired to keep us apart, hasn’t it?

And she immediately regrets it. Kyle doesn’t chuckle back, like she hoped he would. Instead, he just stares at her like she short-circuited his brain, and then, a few seconds later, it feels like power comes back on in there and suddenly he just yanks himself out of the stool next to her, saying “thank you” an unnecessary number of times – without ever actually mentioning what is it that he is so thankful for – and rushes out. She thought they had come to a place in which they could joke around about them, but apparently, she was wrong. She’s not sure exactly what set him off, but she wishes she could say she was sorry. Her comment was an honest attempt to light things up a little, but it did the very opposite.

She excuses herself and heads to the bathroom in order to be able to beat herself up about it alone and avoid the questions she already sees in Joe and Emily’s eyes. As distracted as she is, Sylvie nearly runs into Casey on the narrow hallway that leads to the restrooms.

\- Hey – he says, with a large smile.

\- Hey – she parrots and mimics his smile – You just missed Kyle! – it’s a pretty random thing to say when you run into someone on their way out of the bathroom, but she feels compelled to tell Matt about him, even though she has no idea why.

\- Actually, I did see him, and I have to say, it’s good to see…

\- Oh, so, you got a chance to say goodbye?

She interrupts him, and he looks at her confused.

\- Goodbye? – Casey asks, furrowing a brow at her.

\- He’s leaving – she says, pointing towards Molly’s exit.

Matt’s eyes go back and forth between the front door and her.

\- Ah… I’m sure I’ll see him around again… at some point.

She finally understands why he’s been looking at her like she’s speaking Chinese.

\- Oh, no, I didn’t mean the bar, although, actually, he did just leave but that’s not the point – Rambling alarm sounds on her head as loud as 51’s bells on shift, and she takes a quick pause to refrain herself before continuing – he’s moving to Anderson, Indiana.

Matt’s forehead frowns in a surprised expression, but at the same time, he looks like he finally managed to switch on the subtitles to this conversation.

\- Oh… - she can almost see the engines in his brain processing the new information – when?

\- Soon, like… yesterday – she answers, repeating Kyle’s words and realizing he never actually specified the date.

\- So that’s why you were… - he’s not sure how or even if he should finish this sentence.

\- What?

\- I thought… - when in doubt, go without. He gives her a dismissive wave with his hand and then continues – never mind. No, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

\- Oh… maybe you can give him a call later. If you want. – she suggests amicably.

\- Yeah. Yeah, I’ll probably do that – Matt agrees, and then there’s a quick awkward pause before he speaks again - Are you ok? – he asks, noticing her restless eyes.

\- Me? I’m fine! I mean, like I told him, selfishly I’m not happy about it, but I don’t think anyone in the department is, right? But it’s really great that he’s getting the recognition he deserves, so I’m happy for him – she repeats her sentence from before, with a little twist at the end to emphasize she’s just as bummed as everyone else – not less and especially, _not more._ She knows she doesn’t own Matt any explanations, but once again, it is stronger than her.

\- Me too. I mean, I agree. – Matt responds, looking deeply pensive, like he’s responding her on autopilot while considering something else.

There’s another quick and awkward pause, but this time she’s the one that breaks it.

\- Well, I’mma… - her sentence trails off as she points to the bathroom. Casey smiles and nods, which she takes as her cue to walk away. But just as she does, he calls her back.

\- Brett?

\- What? – she turns towards him again.

She sees those engines in his brain working again for a split second before his next sentence.

\- Can I get you a drink?

She frowns her forehead, and now it is her brain machinery that is desperately trying to catch up to reality.

\- Yeah – she responds timidly – I haven’t ordered anything yet actually, so yeah, that would be great. Thank you.

For the second time tonight, she immediately regrets her own words, and prays to heaven he doesn’t read too much into her sentence. That would be great yes, but because it is _him_ , not because she doesn’t have a drink yet. Damn it, Sylvie.

She resumes her way to the loo once more, and yet again, he calls her back, this time by her first name.

\- Sylvie?

\- Yeah? – she turns to him again, noticing his forehead frowned in an expectant look.

\- Which drink?

She blushes furiously before answering.

\- Right, sorry, uh… – she chuckles it off best she can, and thankfully, so does Matt – well, actually, Stella keeps a bottle of a really good Rosé in the back, so if you could specifically order a glass of that, it’d be great!

\- Fair enough! – the secretive way she speaks is quite amusing to him - Do you have a table yet?

\- Ah… - she takes a quick glance inside Molly’s before answering. Cruz seems to be quite entertained in a chat with Capp and Tony at the counter and Emily is probably halfway across Chicago managing her super busy social life by now – no, not really.

\- Well, now you do!

The coy smile he displays before heading to the bar has no business being that adorable, and yet, it is. She can’t take her eyes off of it, or him for that matter, for another few seconds. She observes as he waits for Stella to come back, resting his hands on the counter, and feels her own fond smile growing.

When Matt invited her to join him on Boden and Donna’s fancy dinner date, part of her wondered if maybe he asked just out of convenience rather than actually wanting to spend time with her. Maybe she was being a bit too skeptic, but it really was a smart move that worked out really well for everyone. He secured himself a date he’s sure Boden and Donna will get along with.

But having drinks with her tonight comes with no conviniences – at least not in _that_ sense of the word. He could literally hang out with almost every single person in this bar, yet she can see him right now walking over to an empty table with a longneck in one hand and a glass of Rosé on the other. Before he sees her standing there and staring at him like the perfect psycho and before those butterflies in her stomach fly any higher, she turns around and - finally - makes her way to the bathroom.


	2. 7x22 B or Broken Cabinets and Shitty Landlords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is finally up! This is still during 7x22, and there's quite a few changes. I know that the explosion at the Arnow Factory Fire only actually happened in 8x01, but it felt a bit out of place to write it like that, so I decided to include it in this chapter. There will be quite a few changes to 8x01 as well, some of which you can already guess by this chapter, but before anyone gets excited, I will tell you that the fatal outcome of said fire won't be changed (sorry). But I want to explore a bit more in detail how 51 dealt with it, especially during that three-month time jump. I hope you'll still enjoy it!  
> Ps: two more things: excuse any typos or mistakes, I didn't proofread this as thoroughly as I should have. Also, thank you all so much for your kudos and kind comments! They are such a great source of motivation during rainy days :)

\- … and that’s when, out of nowhere, Andy stands up and yells: Casey, what the hell did you do?!

The four people sitting across from each other on one of the well-set square tables of The Palm burst into laughter as Casey recounts one of his many adventures with Darden quite a few moons ago. The two of them plus Severide were like the three musketeers – Chicago Fire Department edition, and he could go on all night talking about all kinds of craziness they got away with. Sure, the man sitting across from him is his boss, but Boden’s not one to judge – especially off shift.

Sylvie is particularly grateful for Casey’s storytelling abilities, as laughing eases a bit the tension eating up her nerves. She didn’t think she’d be this nervous, but it turns out that hanging out with her boss (even when that boss is Boden) and going on a date with Matt all at once is a bit more nerve wrecking than she though it would be.

Last night at Molly’s was great. They drank, laugh, drank some more, laughed some more and when they both felt like they had enough to drink, he called himself an uber after basically threatening to put Otis on cleaning duty for the rest of his life if he didn’t make sure Sylvie got home safe. It was probably just the alcohol talking, but she didn’t mind it one bit.

Earlier today, he texted her good morning and the details for tonight, which included reservation time and what time he’d pick her up, because of course he would. She’s starting to convince herself that Matthew Casey is simply uncapable of not being a gentleman. They ended up texting the entire rest of the day, about one thing or another, and she doesn’t really remember when or why she started feeling so nervous.

Maybe it was because she had to dress herself for tonight without the usual help she gets from her girls, and it felt a bit like taking a shot in the dark. She knew the occasion was on the fancier side, but how much was too much? Yeah, now that she’s thinking about it that is probably right where the stress stared. Being underdressed would be just as embarrassing as being overdressed, and she had three people she wanted to make a good impression on tonight – although in very, _very_ different ways.

But that was actually her fault. She decided not to say anything to Emily or Stella to avoid the questions she knew were coming – before and after dinner. She loves her girls, but the coughing fit she had a couple shifts ago was enough for them to get on her case about Matt, especially after she decided to tell them what Olivia told her. When she tells them about tonight (and yes, she will tell them, either because she wants to or because she sucks at keeping secrets), she’ll never hear the end of it.

Since she didn’t have back up, she decided to play it safe tonight, and when it comes to fashion, that for her is a synonym of blue. Specifically, baby blue. The pastel tone of it matches her skin perfectly and makes her eyes pop out – or at least that’s what people always say whenever she wears that color.

So, she picked out a beautiful strapless baby blue dress, knee length, completely covered in lace. It was tight enough to show her silhouette, but not so tight she’d feel self-conscious or uncomfortable. The heart-shaped neckline was rather conservative, but at the same time the perfect fit of it really highlighted her breasts in the best and classiest way possible.

The rest of the outfit was pretty simple. Even with her short hair she managed to pull her usual up do with two short strands falling on each side; Makeup was also very simple, with a little bit of eyeliner and a blush pink lipstick; A delicate jewelry set composed by a pair of pearl stud earrings and a tiny pearls choker necklace; For shoes, she chose velvety high-heeled ones a shade of blue darker than her dress, and a white clutch with embroideries.

She was very happy with the ensemble when she was ready, and even happier when she opened her apartment door to Matt Casey in a suit. Not only was the vision gorgeous, she had to admit, but that also meant she hit the nail right on the head with her own look: not too out there, but not too simple either.

Her mind rushes back to the present moment as the waiter cracks open a bottle of wine and starts serving their table. It is red, which is her least favorite, but it goes well with stake, so she’s not complaining.

There’s a moment of silence as they wait for the wine to be served. When the waiter walks away, she sips her glass and clears her throat, glancing quickly at Matt before putting her glass back on the table and looking at Boden and Donna, smiling shyly.

\- Since we are talking about the past, I actually don’t think I know how you two met.

\- _That_ is a great story – Matt teases, crossing his arms in front of him and giving Boden his best shit-eating grin.

The question seems to bring good memories to Wallace and Donna, who smile at each other, exchanging “you’ll tell it or should I?” type looks. Boden ends up speaking first.

\- Child, I have only three words: butternut squash puree.

Chief and Matt launch into a mini laughter fit, while Donna glares amusedly at her husband.

\- Oh, I see how it is! I hurt your ego so bad you still can’t talk about it after all these years?! - Donna herself laughs as she fires back, and then turns towards a very curious and intrigued Sylvie – I put this man in his place during a call they responded to in my building all those years ago. Our landlord was a douchebag that couldn’t care less about anything other than his money and left us freezing to death with a broken heat. We did what we could to survive, and eventually that led to an accident. But Wallace over here didn’t know that at the time, so he starts lecturing my friend about the danger of using a propane grill inside her apartment…

\- Which he wasn’t wrong about though – Matt offers.

\- Thank you, Captain – Boden appreciates.

\- Shhh, I want to hear the rest – Sylvie says, playfully tapping Matt’s arm yet still looking at Donna.

\- So, I step up and basically tell the chief to stand down.

Everybody on the table laughs out loud, and Boden mutters “that’s true” in between chuckles.

\- Ok, wait, I’m confused. At which point does the butternut squash puree comes into play? – Sylvie asks, and chief Boden takes the lead.

\- After she told me about the heat problem, I had a little chat with her landlord, and he fixed it up. She figured I had something to do with it, so she cooked as a way of saying thank you.

\- …And as an excuse to let him know that there were cabinets in my apartment that still needed fixing – Donna complements, in a flirtatious tone - Thank God he took the hint and showed up there the next day, otherwise my landlord would get another earful and I’d still be single.

Once again, everyone laughs, and Sylvie observes the couple in front of her with loving eyes. There are so many things about this story that resonates with the romantic inside of her. The woman who charms a man off with her strength, the guy who stands up for his girl, food as a love language – it’s a real-life fairytale by her standards.

\- To broken cabinets and shitty landlords – Boden raises his glass – most of the time they bring you pain and sorrow but every so often, they bring you the love of your life.

\- I’ll drink to that! – Matt raises his glass, followed by Donna and Sylvie, who repeat Boden’s initial sentence with smiles on their faces.

***

They are waiting for dessert when Donna excuses herself to the bathroom, and per tradition and also because she really needs to pee, Sylvie follows.

When she approaches the sink to wash her hands after leaving the cabinet, Donna is re-touching her make up.

\- So – Donna says, her flirtatious tone back – how did _you two_ meet?

Sylvie is extremely confused by the question, and Donna’s knowing glance doesn’t help at all.

\- What? – the paramedic asks, furrowing her brows – w-we’ve work together at 51 for like, five years now, you know this.

\- I do know that, yes – Donna replies, without looking at Sylvie – but tonight isn’t morning brief, tonight’s a double date. What I’m asking is, at which point did Captain and PIC met Matt and Sylvie? – and once again, Donna looks at her knowingly. Way too knowingly.

Oh boy. Is this Donna’s idea of bathroom small talk?

\- No-no, it’s not like that. We’re just two friends having a good time with their boss and his wife – Sylvie dismisses Donna best she can, hoping her blushing cheeks don’t give her away too much.

\- If you say so – Donna responds – but just so you know, it wasn’t only the date circumstance that got me wondering.

Sylvie’s expression looks confused enough she doesn’t need to ask.

\- I don’t have that many “friends” who look at me the way Matt looks at you – Donna explains, keeping her eyes in the mirror as she re-applies a little bit of mascara – in fact, I only have one, and he also happens to be my husband.

Uh geez. Sylvie’s mind is divided between basically hearing Olivia saying “I told you so” and remembering their night so far, trying to figure out at which point Matt looked at her the way Donna says he did.

– I think you’ve had enough wine tonight Donna – Sylvie chuckles - and even if you were right, there’s way too much history there, trust me.

This is the excuse she’s been working with so far, but it seems like the more she uses it, the weaker it gets. Stella and Emily had already debunked her arguments about being best friends with Casey’s ex and having dated her brother, and it looks like Donna is about to do the same.

\- History is history, Sylvie – and now Donna looks at her deeply, like she’s trying to peek Sylvie’s heart through her eyes – history is history. Isn’t it?

\- I-I guess… - Sylvie blinks a few times, a little surprised that yet another person doesn’t seem to think their shared past is that big of a deal.

\- Well… - Donna says slowly letting the sentence trail off as she picks her clutch from the counter. Sylvie nods her head negatively and chuckles again, following her out of the bathroom.

On the way back to their table, Sylvie can’t help but reflect about what just happened. This is the second time in a relatively short amount of time that someone points out that her and Matt should be something of an item, so to speak. Are they right? Is she taking this “history” thing too seriously? Because it is, in fact, in the past. It might not be ancient history, like Stella suggested, but it has been a while since Matt got divorced and Gabby left Chicago. In that case, what exactly bothers her so much about it all? It’s awkward, sure, but is it a deal-breaker?

While she doesn’t know the exact answer to those questions, the same is not true for what Donna asked her in the bathroom. She can’t speak for Matt, but she does know when she started seeing him as a possibility instead of just her superior. The first wakeup call was Olivia, obviously, but nothing is as enlightening as a coughing fit first thing in the morning – especially when Stella (and Emily, technically) is around to point out that said coughing fit was literally a physical manifestation of her feelings. Sylvie still remembers how, for a few seconds, her entire mind went blank and the only thing she could think of was “oh, crap”. And then the bells went off, typically.

\- Ah, right on time! – Boden looks up at them as they approach the table again, and Sylvie notices their disserts have already arrived.

\- Huum, this looks delicious! – Donna says, taking her seat again next to her husband, drooling over the chocolate mousse she ordered.

Sylvie also takes her seat, smiling at both gentlemen and realizes her emotional self-analysis will have to wait for now. The lemon tart in front of her deserves her undivided attention.

***

Next shift starts busy for Boden as he has a long, annoying early-morning phone call with headquarters. It works out very well for Cruz, Otis and Sylvie though, since they were running a bit late this morning.

Casey runs into the three of the on the app floor and watches amusedly as Cruz and Otis high five over their small victory. And that’s when he notices. Sylvie walks into the house behind them, but she doesn’t look like her typical happy self. In fact, she looks the opposite of that. She’s holding her elbows with her hands tight to her body, and even though her head’s down, he can see her expression. She looks… he’s not sure if sad is the right word… distracted, perhaps. But not in a good way, definitively.

He glances at the clipboard he has on his hand. He was planning on crossing off a few things on his to-do list while waiting for Boden, but those things can wait too. He walks over to the passenger seat of 81, drops the clipboard, and walks back into the house, looking for her.

When he enters the bunkroom, he finds Sylvie sitting on her bed, with her bag laying in front of her. Normally, she’d go straight to the locker room to put that away, but it looks like today she just sank into her cot and stayed there, vaguely starring into the wall in front of her.

\- Hey – he says softly, trying not to startle her – are you ok?

He walks over to the foot of her bed, and it is only when he walks into her field of vision that she seems to really come out of whatever trance she was in.

\- What? – she asks.

Yeah, distracted seems like a good word.

\- You seem a little off. Is everything alright? – he repeats himself.

\- Oh, am… yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… it’s been a weird day already. – she responds, her gaze trailing off again.

\- How so? – he questions, furrowing his brows.

Sylvie looks around to make sure they are alone, and then looks back up at him, her forehead frowned.

\- Kyle proposed.

Wow. He did not see _that_ coming.

\- Oh… - Casey answers, bewilderedly - as in, asked you to marry him?

He knows how stupid that question is, but it is all he manages to say.

\- Yeap – Sylvie answers awkwardly.

\- When? – Casey walks over to the opposite bed and sits down.

\- Just now – she says, checking her watch – like, twenty minutes ago.

The two of them stay quiet for a few seconds.

\- Uh… did you… say yes? – Casey asks slowly, not wanting to admit how actually terrified he is of that question.

\- No, I said no – Sylvie answers, looking like he just pulled her out of another trance again.

One more silent pause.

\- Are you having second thoughts? – Casey asks raising a brow at her, noticing the uneasiness on her face.

\- No, I’m not. I told Kyle the truth. That life, the small-town, low-paced life, i-it’s not my life. And Fowlerton or Anderson or Indiana really, it’s just not my home anymore. 51 is.

Casey releases a breath he didn’t notice he was holding and grins.

\- I’m glad to hear – he answers genuinely, feeling like there’s still something bugging her, but not sure if he should insist. Thankfully, Sylvie seems to take a hint from the way he is looking at her and keeps talking.

\- Yeah… I just… I keep re-playing our conversation at Molly’s the other night, wondering if maybe I said or did something that led him on, you know? The look on his face, after he said all of those beautiful things, and I said no anyways… I just wish I could have prevented that somehow.

Of course she does, because she is Sylvie Brett. And Sylvie Brett cares for people no matter what the circumstances are.

\- You said he’s leaving Chicago, right? – Casey asks.

\- Right – Sylvie confirms.

\- Desperate times call for desperate measures – Casey replies, crossing his arms in front of him - I don’t know the chaplain all that well, but it sounds like he would have proposed anyway, regardless of anything you did or didn’t do – Casey shrugs – the fact that he didn’t get the answer he hoped for is not your fault.

She knows he has a point, but she still feels a pinch of sadness when Kyle’s disappointed face rushes through her mind.

\- I know – she agrees, sighting – I just wish there was an easy way out of this stuff.

\- Well, there isn’t, but food usually eases things up a bit – Matt says lightly, standing up and motioning towards the common room where everyone is gathering for breakfast.

Sylvie smiles softly and once again sights.

-Yeah – she stands up, throws her bag over her shoulder and starts walking towards the lockers – I’m just going to…

Sylvie is about to say “drop this” when she’s interrupted by the bells.

\- _Ambulance 61, Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Battalion 25…_

\- … or maybe not – she shifts on her feet, dropping her bag on her bed again and follows Matt into the app floor.

On her way to the ambo, his words kidnap her thoughts. “Desperate times call for desperate measures”. Interesting. So, does that mean Casey himself is the kind of guy that takes action when something (or someone) is really important or urgent or was he just interpreting Kyle? She knows he devotes himself fiercely to the job and really speaks up when needed, especially when something isn’t right. She’s seen it and heard about what she wasn’t around to see. But does that apply to other areas of his life too? Or is it just the captain in him?

Who knows? She certainly doesn’t.

***

Sylvie doesn’t know much about fires. She’s a paramedic, after all. But she’s been on the job long enough to have shivers sent down her spine when she spots the word “mattress” on an advertising sign outside the factory to which they were called. This is bad.

On calls like this more than ever, she goes into full on PIC mode, putting a pin on any thoughts or feelings that had taken up her attention so far. There’s already a lot of people coming out of the building when they arrive, and a few minutes in she hears chief Boden yelling that there’s at least fifty more people in the basement. He proceeds to bark orders to everyone, but she only register the place where they are supposed to set triage, offering a quick “copy that!” to her boss without taking her eyes off of the victims running towards her.

Sylvie doesn’t have time to marvel too much at Boden’s leadership skills right now, but damn is she proud of having him as her chief. Shortly after he calls for and EMS Plan I and a 2-11 Alarm, the other companies arrive, and at this point, the scene is the very definition of pandemonium. There’s one hell of a lot of first responders and victims both inside and outside the factory. Everybody is running around like crazy between loud sirens and smoke, and yet, there he is – coordinating every truck, engine, ambo and squad unit as if he owned the whole damn CFD. Not that she or anyone else is surprised. After all, it’s Boden.

That right there is part of the reason that she doesn’t think twice before following Chief into the building. The other part is Matt. She noticed Boden was hesitant when he first called them in, and she appreciates the concern with her safety, but everyone knows Casey wouldn’t make a call like that unless he was a hundred percent sure. She’d trust both of these men with her life any day, so why not today?

Walking into that mattress factory feels like walking into a real-life horror movie – and judging by what Matt said, there are far worst parts to it. There are so many inhalation victims lying on the floor Sylvie genuinely loses count. The oxygen supply and jump bag they brought in are usually more than enough in regular calls, but in this one they feel almost useless. Her and Foster are starting to treat the victims in critical condition and those that can’t move first when Herrmann’s voice breaks through the radio.

She only registers a few words Herrmann says. “Boiler”, “about to blow” and something about “the whole block”. Next thing she knows, Boden is kneeling between her and her partner, with one hand on each woman’s shoulders, translating what Engine 51’s lieutenant just said. And it is _not_ good.

\- Basement is gonna blow. Get as many of these victims out as we can. Now.

Given the circumstances, Boden’s voice is strangely soothing. It only lasts for a minute though, because when he issues the evacuation order over the radio, he’s got his chief tone back on again.

Everything happens very quickly after that.

Emily calls her when she finds a victim that is not breathing. There’s no time to try and revive anyone right now, so Sylvie tells her to move on. It sucks, but it is part of the job sometimes. Severide calls in saying something about a jammed door and half a dozen people, but Boden insists on the evacuation yelling “Evacuate! Evacuate!” over the radio every so often, like an automated alarm.

The thing is though, he himself doesn’t leave. Sylvie supposes he will when he truly feels they’ve run out of time, at which point she (and Foster) will follow. But as long as chief’s in here, so are they. Besides, they’re only a few feet away from the door up here. Everyone downstairs have quite a journey back up, and there’s still a lot of civilians coming out. She knows her 51 one family way too well by now. Neither of them will move a muscle before every single civilian is out, those heroicly stubborn men and woman.

For a few brief seconds, each of her colleagues and friends’ faces flashes before her eyes, and for the first time during the call, she feels fear. She’s felt worried, tired and a bit scared since she first spotted the mattress factory sign outside when they arrived, but right now, she’s terrified.

And it turns out she had very good reason to be.

A section of the floor a few feet ahead of them erupts first with a loud explosion noise, calling her attention. She’s starting to think they may have had less time than they thought they did when the rest of the floor crumbles underneath their feet. She quickly glances fire, smoke and dust before instinctively closing her eyes, and then everything goes pitch black.


	3. 8x01 A or Empty Rooms & Hideout Spots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, obviously, Sylvie rejected Kyle so she’s not going anywhere. I couldn’t have Sylvie break her arm in this fic though because I needed her to be healed and back at the firehouse faster for another scene I had planned. However, worried Matt is my favorite Matt, and I loved that he was so concerned with Sylvie chief Boden had to yell at him multiple times to finally get his attention, so in order not to rob us of that moment, I didn’t let her completely off the hook (sorry Sylvie). Also, I loved the surprise welcome they gave her when she came back from Fowlerton, so I kept it in, but changed the timing and a few details so that it would adjust better to the story. Lastly, I'm not sure yet how many parts my rewrite of 8x01 will have given all the changes I'm making (*smiles nervously*), but I didn't want to keep you waiting too long, so... enjoy :)

Chief Boden wakes up first. He coughs himself up to stand on his knees, giving his lungs time to catch up to the rest of his body. The last few seconds rush back to his mind almost instantly, and he instinctively looks up, trying to distinguish if there are still any debris hanging from the floor above them that could fall on someone’s head – including his own. It is a nearly impossible task though, as the smoke is so thick that other than flames, he can barely distinguish anything standing further away than a few feet.

His eyes come back down, and after a little bit of searching, they find one of his paramedics, slowly bringing herself up to seat.

\- Foster? – he calls in a voice heavy with concern.

Foster immediately raises a reassuring hand at her boss.

\- I’m ok! I’m ok chief!

She frees one of her feet from below a metal bar of some kind and brings herself up to seat. As tired as she already feels, there’s no time to catch her breath when she hears a low, painful growl coming from her right, and with one quick glance she finds her partner lying on the floor, apparently unable to move.

\- Brett? – Foster calls, crawling through the wreckage as carefully as she can. The PIC doesn’t answer.

– Brett? – Foster calls again. Still no answer.

Chief Boden observes the two women carefully, already with his hand on the radio, ready to call it in.

\- Sylvie? Can you hear me? – This time, Foster is kneeling next to her partner, touching her shoulder gently. Sylvie is breathing heavily and has her eyes semi-opened. Her facial expression is a mixture of pain and confusion. She manages to look at Emily for a few seconds only before her eyes shut down, as does she.

Neither Foster nor Boden know exactly what is wrong, but something clearly is, and that is enough for him.

\- Mayday, Mayday! – he yells over the radio - Firefighter down! Floor collapsed! Basement, south side!

Chief Boden’s voice sounds loud through both the radio and the basement, creating a weird echo effect that hits the guys’ ears just as they got back on their feet after the blow.

\- Get these guys out of here, I’ll go help Boden! – Casey is already halfway through the basement towards the chief when he yells back at the rest of the Truck members and Squad. Thankfully, nobody protests.

He had a sinking feeling on his stomach since he heard Herrmann’s radio call about the boiler, but he held on to the hope that since chief Boden was with them, they would make it out on time. Sadly, he was wrong. And for whatever reason, he is not surprised to see that Sylvie is the one Boden was calling help for. From the moment he heard the chief, somehow, someway, he knew it was her.

He slows down as he approaches the two women on the floor, feeling overwhelmed. He’s extremely impressed by the whole the explosion created, and the power it had to take down such a thick layer of concrete. He’s also terrified by the sight of Sylvie unconscious on the floor, and the wave of guilt he already feels washing over him seems to be as powerful as the explosion they just survived. Crushed by all of these emotions and worries, Casey starts blabbering out words, not really talking to anyone specifically.

\- The roof collapsed! – he says, looking up.

He hears chief Boden saying something on his right, but he doesn’t _really_ hear it.

\- It was two feet of concrete! – he looks back down to Foster, who has her stethoscope on Sylvie’s chest, not paying attention to what he’s saying.

Chief Boden repeats himself, but again, Casey doesn’t really register what he says.

\- I never would have called you into position if I’d known!

\- CASEY!

He finally realizes that Boden was calling him.

\- What?! – he says, stopping abruptly and looking back towards the chief.

\- Concentrate on getting Brett and everybody else out of this basement. We can Monday morning quarterback it later!

Casey nods as he pulls his helmet on again and kneels beside Sylvie. He’s about to ask Foster if she’s ok when Severide’s voice cuts through the air.

\- Casey! What do you need? – he yells from a few feet away.

\- Brett’s unconscious! C-collar and backboard to get her out of here, stokes basket into the ready! – the captain responds.

Severide forwards the situation to Capp and Tony, who are probably the only 51 firefighters who are not in the basement and orders them on what to do. Casey looks back to Foster with concerned, wide-opened eyes.

\- Is she ok? – he asks, trying not to sound too desperate.

\- Her vitals are stable, but she’s been out for a while which probably means… damn it! – as the paramedic was talking, she slowly moved Sylvie’s head, scanning it for a concussion, which she found just above her nape, where her head probably hit – or was hit by – a piece of something during the explosion.

Seeing Sylvie’s beautiful blonde hair covered in dust was bad enough but covered in fresh red blood has got to be one of the most terrifying things Matt Casey has ever seen. Foster improvises a bandage to stop the bleeding, and Casey hurries Squad through the radio.

\- She’s going to be ok, right? – he asks Foster for reassurance.

\- Yeah – the paramedic answers vaguely and quickly, without looking at her captain. She knows very well there is no guarantee of that as of now, since neither of them can tell the gravity of the concussion. They both focus on removing debris from around Sylvie’s body that might block or complicate transferring her to the backboard, being careful not to move her head.

Severide appears again a few seconds later, handing them the equipment they needed. Casey helps Foster put the C-collar on Sylvie, watching her injury, and once she’s on the backboard, Severide and Chief team up with them to carry her out. Since the guys seemed to have everything under control with the victims that were still inside, Stella joins them just as they are sliding Brett up, stokes basket attached to the ladder. They climb up after her, and with one hand from each of them on the basket, transporting her is quite easy.

During the first few seconds after they cross the front doors, the world seems excessively bright. For a minute there, they almost forgot it was daytime, considering how dark the interior of the building was. The scene outside doesn’t look much different from before they all went in. If anything, it looks even worse. There are more sirens, more people and more dust and smoke.

Ambo 77’s paramedics are waiting for them with the gurney a few feet away from the Ambo. They carefully transfer Sylvie onto it, working in perfect sync. The paramedics do a preliminary check-up on Brett, re-stating that her vitals are stable and putting her on oxygen just to be safe.

\- Let’s roll her in! – one of the paramedic’s says, and just as Casey, Severide, Stella and Foster start pushing the gurney towards the Ambo, Cruz’s very desperate voice emerges from the chaos.

\- FIREFIGHTER DOWN! Firefighter down!

Everyone looks in his direction, and the image of Cruz, Herman, Mouch and Capp carrying a very unconscious Otis takes everyone aback. Chief Boden’s eyes fall shut in disappointment, and even though he doesn’t say anything, it is pretty easy to figure out that he is thinking they were so close of everyone making it out with mild injuries, for a moment there he truly believed everything would be fine. Severide, Stella and Foster keep pushing Brett inside the Ambo, although unintentionally slowing down, looking at their fellow firefighter, trying to understand what is going on.

Casey, on the other hand, is completely paralyzed. He watches as the four firemen load Otis into another Ambo, and he has never felt his brain so short-circuited as he feels right now. Otis? When…? Did he…? But… Engine…? They went in… The basement… What…? He can’t form sentences or thoughts. He literally has no idea what the hell just happened.

\- Captain, are you coming with us? – Foster’s voice from inside the Ambo where one of the paramedics is already further examinating Brett draws him back to reality. He watches Otis’ ambulance drive away before quickly glancing at Boden for permission.

\- Go, we’ll meet you guys there! – Boden responds.

Matt hops on the back of 77 and as soon as the doors are shut, they rush towards Chicago Med. His brain is still not functioning properly. All the way to the hospital, the only two things he can think of are the woman lying on the gurney in front of him and how, even from a distance, he could clearly see how destroyed Otis’ mask looked.

***

When Sylvie wakes up, she blinks a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the brightness invasion. When they finally do, the features and colors she sees around her make it easy for her to realize she’s at Chicago Med, more specifically, she’s in one of the ER rooms. As a patient. Ok, that much is clear (and very unusual). What is not clear is why. Sylvie has absolutely no idea how she ended up here. The last thing she remembers clearly is talking to Matt about Kyle’s proposal at the firehouse. She remembers they got an early morning call, but after that there is a huge blank space.

She focuses her attention on her body, and with a quick assessment she notices it is sore all over, but she doesn’t feel bruises or burns anywhere. She also notices that she does have a headache so terrible she literally feels like her head is going to explode. Between that and the loss of memory, she’s pretty sure she has a concussion. That most likely means something went wrong on that call. Very wrong.

\- Hey Sylvie! – Dr. Manning greets her compassionately as she enters the room, sanitizing her hands by the door, followed by a nurse – how are you feeling?

Sylvie groans.

\- I’ve been better – she replies painfully – Natalie, can you give me something for my head? It is killing me!

\- Sure – Natalie responds, nodding at the nurse who immediately goes after the meds – I’m glad to see you recognize me, do you also know where you are?

\- Chicago Med – Sylvie nods slowly.

\- Great! And do you know why you are here?

\- No – Sylvie responds fearfully.

\- Ok, well, you have a mild concussion on the back of your head; Loss of short-term memory is quite common in cases like this, so don’t worry about it ok?

Sylvie nods again and dr. Manning asks her to follow a little flashlight with her eyes, which she does.

– Ok, good. Looks like everything is on track, Sylvie – Natalie smiles sympathetically - Now, there are some people outside who really want to see you, I’ll let them explain what happened. If you need anything, let me know ok?

Natalie walks away at the same time the nurse comes back in with the meds, quickly attaching them to Sylvie’s IV. Just as she’s leaving, Matt and Emily walk through the door. They both walk towards the headboard, stopping close to her head, one on each side of her bed. Sylvie automatically smiles at them, who mimic her. Well, Emily does anyway. Casey has more of a semi-smirk on his face. He looks tired. They both do, which means she probably does to.

\- Hey there partner! How are you holding up? – Foster asks affectionately.

\- I’m ok, I guess – Sylvie answers – what happened?

\- Floor collapsed after the explosion, took you with it – Matt answers objectively.

Sylvie looks as confused as she feels.

\- Explosion? What explosion? - she asks, growing scared. Matt can’t stop the worry that invades his chest when Sylvie says she doesn’t remember what happened, even though he’s had a concussion himself, and he knows that is quite normal.

\- Ok, let’s take it easy. How much do you remember? – Foster’s voice is gentle.

\- Getting the call, back at the house, before breakfast. That’s it. – Sylvie explains.

\- Well, we were called to a mattress factory fire. There was and old industrial boiler on the basement that blew up, which made the floor collapse. You, chief Boden and myself got to take the fast root towards the basement, but he and I landed properly. You got a bit banged up. – Emily says, trying to light things up a bit.

Sylvie looks at her like someone who’s starting to see the puzzle coming together.

\- We were inside the building? – she asks, just to adjust a few details.

\- Yes, and that was my fault, I’m sorry – Matt interferes – I never should have called you in.

\- Yes, you should have! - Sylvie kindly dismisses his apology – I’m just trying to piece the details together, Matt. I don’t remember the fire, but I do remember who you are. I’m sure you wouldn’t have called us unless you actually thought we’d be safe with the information you had at the time.

The two women look at him, and Foster has an “I told you so” expression on her face. Matt brings back the semi-smirk and nods at them. She knows he’ll torture himself for days to come, so she’ll have plenty of time to reassure him better that this wasn’t his fault when her own energy levels have improved.

– I wish I remembered what happened though – Sylvie ponders – sounds like it was a crazy one! Is everyone else ok?

Sylvie can immediately feel the tension in the room building and she notices an apprehensive glance between Casey and Foster, who seem to be mentally asking each other who’s going to tell her whatever it is they need to tell her.

\- Guys? – Sylvie insists, feeling her heart accelerating, eyes floating between the two people on each side of her – is everyone else ok? – she repeats her question, now more emphatically.

\- No, not everyone – Foster sits on the edge of Sylvie’s bed, and her eyes immediately get filled with tears. Crap. Something happened. Something bad.

\- We are not entirely sure how it happened just yet, but – Emily takes a deep breath before continuing – Otis got burnt during the explosion.

\- Otis? – Sylvie’s eyes jump between Matt and Emily frenetically - I-Is he going to be ok? - she asks, although if she’s being honest, she knows exactly where this is going, she’s just stalling a few seconds more.

Casey lowers his head, focusing his gaze on the ground, arms crossed in front of his chest. Foster looks at Sylvie gravely, her chin contracting a bit as she fights against her tears, and slowly nods her head negatively.

Sylvie starts mimicking her, moving from uncertainty to denial.

\- The doctors did everything they could – Foster explains, holding Sylvie’s hand – but the extent of the burns was too great to be repaired. I am so sorry Sylvie! Otis died fifteen minutes ago.

Sylvie is a sobbing mess as her friend finishes the sentence. She wishes she could hug Foster, but she’s too afraid to move her head that much yet, so instead she just sinks completely into her pillow, pressing her back and head heavily against it, face pointed towards the roof as she lets the tears out. Foster keeps holding Sylvie’s hand, and lowers her head to the PIC’s shoulder, facing away from her, hoping to somehow offer some sort of comfort and letting a few of her own tears drop too.

Matt’s never seen Sylvie crying like this. It doesn’t sit well with him. If he’s being honest, it breaks his heart. And it also only strengthens that wave of guilty he had been feeling since the floor collapsed inside the factory. He hasn’t even had time to wrap his mind around what happened to Otis, but he’s already decided that Sylvie hearing about it on a hospital bed with a concussion is definitively his fault.

He presses her shoulder gently with one of his hands, looking at her painfully. Sylvie doesn’t stop crying nor open her eyes, but she places the hand that Foster isn’t holding over his, holding onto it quite forcefully, like someone who holds onto something in order to prevent themselves from falling. He holds on to the side of the gurney with his other hand, and fixes his gaze on the mattress, losing himself in his thoughts. Sylvie opens her eyes briefly and glances at him. She can almost hear him thinking. She knows he’s blaming himself, and she wants him to stop – she wants to tell him to stop, but right now, she can’t. Her mind is dominated by the thought of Otis’ empty bedroom on their apartment, and the pain of knowing he will never be back in there is all-consuming.

***

_Three Weeks Later_

Arriving to work at Firehouse 51 is always a pleasure, but after three weeks on medical leaf because of that damn concussion, walking across the app floor and through the doors into the common room feels… highly disappointing. Sylvie wasn’t expecting a party or anything like that, after all, she’s only been gone for three weeks, and she’s seen everyone off shift once or twice, but she was hoping to at least find everybody in the common room so she could hug them out enough to make up for how much she’s missed being with them everyday. Instead, the only two people she encounters are Mouch snoring on his seat and a busy Tony behind the isle preparing breakfast.

She walks further into the common room, trying to peek into the briefing room to see if anyone’s there, which is right about the time she sees two pair of eyes peeking back at her through the glass windows that divide the two rooms. They disappear as fast as they appeared, spiking her curiosity. Was that Stella? It was so quick she couldn’t tell, maybe it was Emily. Anyways, what the heck were either of them doing behind the…

\- SURPRISE!

Her fellow firefighters, Emily and even chief Boden come up out of nowhere and everywhere, yelling at the top of their lungs, crashing pans together and clapping. Sylvie is amusedly startled, dropping her bag on the floor as both her hands instinctively retrieve towards her chest, before displaying a large smile.

\- You should have seen your face! – Emily teases as she pulls Sylvie in for a hug.

\- You guys are horrible! – Sylvie answers, hugging Foster back – I’ve only been back for like five minutes and you are already giving me heart attacks!

Stella goes in for a hug next, and hands Sylvie a donut box. Oh, how well they know her.

\- I thought a simple “welcome back” banner would have sufficed, but no! – Chief Boden jokes, a large smile on his face.

\- The donuts were my idea! – Mouch says proudly.

Severide rubs her back friendly after giving her a quick hug and then makes way for Cruz.

\- I see you every damn day but I’m not one to pass a hug! Welcome back, roomie! – Cruz says, pulling her in by the hands.

Sylvie smiles as she returns the embrace and mentally thanks heaven for Joe Cruz. Their ability to maintain – actually, to grow their friendship after they broke up is something that she will forever cherish.

She hears a bark behind her and turns around to find Ritter walking towards her with Tuesday.

\- Tuesday! Hi, honey! – she kneels and pets the dalmatian amicably. Tuesday responds just as enthusiastically.

\- Tuesday missed you too! – Ritter says, and Sylvie’s convinced he’s the most heart-warming soul in the entire CFD.

When she looks back up, there’s another quite heart-warming (in very different ways, of course, but still) soul looking at her with a large smile on his face, one she hasn’t seen in a long time.

\- Hey – she says coyly.

\- Hey! – he parrots – come here!

Casey stretches his arms and pulls her in for a quick, professional hug. She realizes that this is the first time they’ve hugged. Ever. Not that it is a big deal or anything. Friends hug all the time. Right?

\- 51 just hasn’t been the same these past three weeks. We’ve missed you. – he says softly, with a smile on his face that has no business being so cute.

\- Feeling’s mutual, trust me – she responds.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, smiling like two idiots, and then the new floater for Truck walks through the door, stealing the Captain away.

Sylvie observes Casey for a few seconds as chief Boden approaches her and does the same. She and Matt haven’t seen much of each other the past three weeks, but every time they did, he had been great. He went to see her in the hospital again the next day, since the doctors asked her to stay a bit longer just to be safe. When her and Cruz had to go through Otis’ stuff, he offered help, and he really did help. A lot. In fact, Sylvie imagines that taking practical action to move forward is his way of dealing with grief, since he was also the one who emptied Otis’ locker at the firehouse, according to the Daily News: Firehouse 51 Edition that Emily provided her when she was recovering.

As grateful as she is, she’s also worried about him. She hasn’t seen one single tear fall from his eyes since Otis… since what happened. He looked devasted during the funeral, that’s for sure, and everybody handles these things differently, of course, but she’s just not sure that he has really allowed himself to actually handle it.

\- How is he? – she asks chief Boden, following Matt with her eyes as he guides the newcomer towards the bunkroom.

Chief Boden sights, and when Casey disappears from their eyes’ reach, he turns towards her, forehead frowned.

\- I’m not sure.

Sylvie sights. There’s not much anyone can do. She’s seen Matt Casey with his walls up before, the man becomes a freaking fortress. Unless he decides to lower his guard, it is going to be hard to crack through them.

***

The upside of getting hurt and being off work for a few weeks is that, because she loves her job so much, when she finally gets it back, Sylvie is excited about everything and anything, even the stuff she used to get quite bored with before, like inventory.

After having her donuts for breakfast, Sylvie walks to the back of the Ambo and pushes both doors open, ready to get to work. What she is not ready for, however, is to find Matt Casey sitting inside, across from the gurney, with a bunch of paperwork on his clipboard. Matt is also a bit startled by her sudden appearance.

\- Geez! – Sylvie breaths out and bends over in surprise.

\- Sorry – Matt says awkwardly – I didn’t mean to scare you. I just needed to finish this report and was having trouble concentrating.

\- It’s ok Matt, really – she dismisses him with a wave of her hand, smiling – I’ve used your quarters as hideout spot before, so… - she lets her sentence trails off as her post-break-up-with-Cruz days fill her mind. Boy is she glad those days are in the past – anyways, Foster and I were just going to do inventory, but we can do that later if you…

\- No-no-no, please – he says, getting up and out of the Ambo – I’m basically done anyway, just need to sign and hand them to the chief.

\- Are you sure? – Sylvie insists – because really, there’s no rush…

\- I am sure, Sylvie – he reassures her with a smile and squeeze of her shoulder.

He heads back inside just as Foster is coming out.

\- Casey was in here again? – she asks Sylvie when she approaches the Ambo and Casey is walking past the tower.

Sylvie’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

\- Again?

\- Yeah – Foster explains – he’s done that a few times since… these past three weeks. I’ve ran into him working in here a few times. He even took a nap on the gurney once. I don’t see how this – she gestures towards the inside of the Ambo - is more comfortable than his bed inside his private office quarters, but…

Sylvie’s eyes follow the Captain through the windows until he disappears into the bullpen. This is weird. Matt is probably one of the most private guys she knows. She doesn’t remember ever seeing him working anywhere else but his office or the common room when it didn’t require a lot of focus. Besides, 51 has a bunch of cool hideout spots: there’s a small garden in the back of the firehouse, turn-out room, the blue office (yes, it is a bit dusty and messy but it’s still there), even the back of the truck. As the bells go off and request Ambo 61 for a wellness check, two questions linger around Sylvie’s mind: Why Ambo? And most importantly, what is he hiding from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it so far! Also, thank you again for your comments! They are always much appreciated!


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